


Transfer

by thealmostviki



Series: Oikawa Rarepair Week 2017 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Oikawa Rarepair Week 2017, in which oikawa sucks energy from people's bodies and bokuto has the actual sun inside his veins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 20:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11608227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealmostviki/pseuds/thealmostviki
Summary: Oikawa doesn't have the greatest history with siphoning energy from people. It usually ends a little closer to death than he'd like to be responsible for. Then again, not everyone has a soul as bright as Bokuto's.Oikawa Rarepair Day 2- Energy: Oikawa siphons life energy from others to survive. It's a good thing Bokuto has so much of it.





	Transfer

**Author's Note:**

> So one of the prompts for Day 2 was "energy" I was playing around with it and I remembered of the popular belief that Bokuto is always bouncing off the walls and he's impossible to keep up with, and then I thought "hey, wouldn't it be hilarious if he actually had more tangible energy than pretty much everyone else alive" and thus this was born.  
> Not beta-read, so all mistakes are mine. Again, comments and criticism appreciated!

“How much energy do you need?” Bokuto asked, eyebrows creased in worry. 

“Not a lot,” Oikawa assured him. “At least, I don’t think a lot. I usually stop when I can see it’s starting to hurt people.” 

“Aren’t you always tired then?” 

Oikawa shrugged listlessly. “I’m fine. I’m used to it. When I was little and didn’t need that much I’d just take from my parents. But now…” He swallowed. “I’m managing.” 

It wasn’t a lie exactly, because Oikawa _was_ managing, even if he wasn’t managing _well_. He knew Bokuto noticed his exhaustion and increased absence from the house. Oikawa wasn’t trying to ignore him but he didn’t want Bokuto to worry. There were some things Oikawa needed to handle on his own, no matter how willing Bokuto was to step in. So he bore his exhaustion with head held high and sat through lectures with enough coffee to give a water buffalo a heart attack, and when Bokuto asked him if he was okay, he said he was. 

But today, his time had finally run out. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bokuto asked, sounding hurt. It made something ache in Oikawa’s chest but he pushed it down. 

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he said, swirling his cold tea with a spoon. “It’s happened before. It…wasn’t good.” 

It wasn’t a new thing, the hunger. It wasn’t even unheard of. Everyone took energy from those around them to survive. Normally it wasn’t noticeable; touches as simple as handshakes and high-fives were enough to sustain a person. Sometimes even by being around others, one could absorb some energy from the air. Most people didn’t have to think about it or worry about it. Most people weren’t so tired all the time. 

Then there was Oikawa. 

"Parasite" was the word the doctor used to describe him. He didn’t produce any energy of his own. His life force was weak and flickering and needed the input of others to sustain itself. When Oikawa was younger, this meant following his parents around everywhere so he could hold their hand or sit next to him on the couch. Then, that stopped being enough. He needed to take. He needed to assuage his own hunger. Everything got a little more frightening after that.

His parents were woken up by their eleven-year-old son crying at their door, screaming that he’d killed his older sister. Their eldest daughter lay on the ground, cheeks sunken and eyes red, looking like death itself. She’d lived, but only barely, and she’d been afraid to touch her brother for a long time after that. Later, his mother fell ill with no obvious cause, mollifying every doctor they turned to. When Oikawa started avoiding her, her condition improved. No one said anything, but the truth was plain. He started spending a lot more time in his room. 

In junior high, he bought a little plant for his windowsill to brighten up the place a little. On a particularly bad day, he came home and tried to water it, but his fingers brushed the stem and engulfed the whole plant in lilac light. It died in seconds, withered to ash.

He threw out the flower pot and started wearing gloves. 

And so it went through the years, avoiding skin contact with everyone around him or fear of bleeding them dry. When he’d get sick, his own skin sunken and pale, his mother would outstretch a hand and tell him to take what he needed, but he could get the image of her sick and doubled over out of his head, and he only took what was necessary to get by. At the first hitched breath or clenched muscle he’d pull away, his insides still aching, but he brushed it away. He had to. He could deal with a little hunger, a little fatigue. He’d been doing it all his life, so how harmful could it be? 

Bokuto watched him, those golden eyes boring into Oikawa’s soul, his expression the same as it was when he was solving a puzzle or figuring out a riddle. After a few empty moments, he stretched his hand out across the table.

“Take from me," he said.

“What?” Oikawa jerked back in surprise. 

“Take energy from me.” Bokuto’s voice was level and calm and betrayed no hesitation. “You said yourself I had a bright soul. Lots of energy. Maybe I can help.” 

“Bokuto, no, I can’t-” 

“Please.” Bokuto swallowed and shook out his tense shoulders. “I want to help you. I’ll be okay.” 

Oikawa let out a shaky breath as he tossed his options back and forth. He was dead tired, and hungrier than he’d ever been. If he went too much longer he’d collapse, and then he might start siphoning from someone uncontrollably, which wouldn’t be safe. At least now if he took a little at a time, he could stave off the worst of it until he found a better solution. Also, based off the way Bokuto was looking at him now, refusing him might come across as a rejection, and Oikawa didn’t want to mess up more than he already had. 

“If I see any signs of distress, I’m stopping,” Oikawa said, hoping to hide the waver in his voice. He pulled off his gloves one finger at a time and laid his hands over Bokuto’s. 

“Ready?” he asked. Bokuto nodded. “It might hurt a little at first.” 

Just like every other feeding, Oikawa focused his energy into his hands, letting a soft heat settle between their palms. Bokuto let out a tense breath and Oikawa let their fingers touch. The connection stayed tenuous enough for golden energy to slide from the surface of Bokuto’s skin into Oikawa’s. It was warm energy, warmer than anyone else’s he’d taken, and it traveled up his arms and pooled in his chest like it had always belonged there, like an extension of his own life force. He sighed and laced their fingers together, and the soft lilac glow surrounding Oikawa’s hands encased both of them. 

Bokuto stayed very still and let Oikawa have full control over the transfer. Oikawa watched him, looking for paling skin or red eyes, but nothing showed. Bokuto didn’t speak, the only sound their combined breathing and the chimes outside playing in the wind. 

“Are you still good?” Oikawa checked after almost a minute, and Bokuto nodded. 

“How are you doing?” Bokuto checked in, and Oikawa blinked. He’d never been asked before. 

“Good,” he said finally. “I might stop soon.” 

“Take your time,” Bokuto said. “We don’t have anywhere to be.” 

So Oikawa closed his eyes and tightened his hold, increasing the flow into his body. As he went his spine straightened and his mouth didn’t feel like cotton anymore. Even his eyesight sharpened. He couldn’t believe how sick he’d been now that he felt well. If he hadn’t known better he’d have said he was dying only a few minutes ago. 

Bokuto’s grip loosened in his and Oikawa’s eyes snapped open, his heart leaping into his throat. But there was no gaunt corpse sitting across the table from him. Instead, Bokuto sat with his eyes closed, muscles relaxed as if he was sunbathing or sitting by the ocean, not having his life force sucked out of him through his fingers. Oikawa pulled away and let their hands drop to the table. Bokuto cracked open an eye to see him, and a smile stretched across his face.

“Hey,” he said, as clear and bright as morning. “Done recharging?” 

“Are you okay?” Oikawa asked instead of answering. Bokuto’s pulse beat strong under Oikawa’s fingers when he checked it, and the soft lines of energy under his skin stayed as bright as they always had been as if Oikawa hadn’t spent a minute and a half bleeding him dry. It was almost as if Oikawa had never touched him. 

Bokuto watched with amusement as Oikawa traced his blood vessels, taking note of his energy levels and blockages. “I’m a little tired, but okay. You don’t have to worry about me.” 

A little knot of worry unclenched in Oikawa’s chest. “I’ll always worry about you. Especially with this.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m fine,” Bokuto said, turning his hand over in front of his face. “So I guess your super drain doesn’t affect me as much as you thought it would, does it?” 

“No, it doesn’t.” Oikawa rubbed his hands together to soothe the residual tingling in his palms. “I still don’t like taking energy from you.” 

“But you feel better?” 

“Yes,” Oikawa conceded. “But it’s not worth it if-” 

“Tooru,” Bokuto said, and Oikawa’s mouth snapped shut. “I’m fine. I will be fine. You can’t run yourself into the ground because of this. We’ll work something out, okay?” 

Oikawa swallowed, and his hands found their way around his mug, naked without his gloves. “Okay,” he mumbled. It wasn’t safe, never would be as far as he was concerned, but Bokuto’s smile was full of sunlight and reassurance, and just for today, they'd be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up anytime at my tumblr! - [@ohnodatekou](https://ohnodatekou.tumblr.com/)


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